What Never Was
by Fueled By Dr. Pepper
Summary: Dave Karofsky is packing away everything before he leaves Lima for college. But what skeletons will he have to confront in the process? ONE-SHOT. 1051 words.


The pack was going relatively smoothly. Once things had been somewhat organized into separated piles based on whether they were headed to storage or college-bound, actually getting them into boxes was much easier. Things that needed to be sent to the attic were going first, prompting a tentative trip down memory lane for Dave Karofsky and his mother.

"Look at this, Dave."

Dave made a quick glance as he packed away old books, faking interest, "Cool, Mom, I remember that."

At first, it was endearing but Dave was beginning to become anxious about time and decided to cut the amount of time reminiscing short.

A sigh was heard, "And look, your yearbook! You're not taking it with you?"

Though senior year had fared much better than all 3 years combined for Dave, he was still more than willing to leave a lot of Lima behind in pursuit of his higher education.

"Mom, I need to maximize my dorm space."

"For what? Your X-Box?"

He looked up and she was seated on the edge of his bed, flipping through the yearbook. So much for keeping up a good pace.

"Mom, come on."

Mrs. Karofsky smiled and waved her son's concern off. She stopped on a page.

"What a nice layout for the Glee club."

Dave walked over slowly. He had only glanced at that particular section briefly when he first received the book, and hardly looked at any other pages since.

"They all look happy."

Dave smirked; they did all have huge smiles in the snapshots – in a faked, obligatory sort of way. The group photo – a candid shot taken during a rehearsal – was the only one that captured them with true joy on their faces. He was regrettably out of frame save fore his letterman sleeve in a far edge, but his name was listed among the others in the caption.

"That's – that's Finn, right? And that has to Rachel Berry, the girl posing mid-hug."

As his mother went on, naming those she could recognize, Dave focused in on a particular pairing. Their smiles were genuine just like the others but their happiness seemed so abundant as shone through their eyes as they looked at each other.

"And those boys are?"

Mrs. Karofsky's finger moved into his line of vision, breaking the concentration.

"Anderson, er, Blaine Anderson and . . ." the name caught in his throat, "Fancy, or um, Hummel."

She looked up her son, a dry sarcastic smile on her lips, "Which one's his first name, Fancy or Hummel?"

Dave rolled his eyes. Leaps and bounds were made the past year, he actually considered the people in the picture his friends but talking about that world with his mother was still new in a very uncomfortable way.

"Kurt. His name is Kurt."

He had said it so many times before but this was the first mention of him in a conversation with her.

"Kurt Hummel."

A pause.

"Wasn't he the one you . . .?"

Realization kicked in just in time for Dave to wish he had never allowed himself near the book.

"Was he –? I mean, did you ever . . ." Mrs. Karofsky, though far more well adjusted to her son's sexuality, struggled to find the right words.

"We never dated."

She rolled her eyes, "Obviously. You're not that secretive. I meant did you ever want to date him?"

Dave looked back down at the photo. He thought about it. Of course he had wanted something from Kurt. But even after all this time, he could never put a name to it.

He remembered craving specific things. During the bullying period, he wanted Kurt to go away so he could stay exactly the way he was. After that kiss, he wanted Kurt to leave still but a small part of him wanted things he wasn't ready for. When Kurt actually left, he lied to himself, denying that he ever wanted Kurt to return.

Then Kurt came back. And he was angry. Angry that he had to do things he didn't want to. Angry that Kurt wasn't the same as he was before. But a large chunk of anger was from the knowledge that Kurt had begun dating Blaine.

When he came out, a lot of his toxic feelings left but that particular grudge never budged.

He could list a throng of words that express negative feelings but none of them would fit just how he felt when Blaine transferred to McKinley. Knowing that he was dating Kurt was one thing but seeing it, being surrounded by it's little reminders everyday, was another.

He did genuinely grow to be friends with them both. After some time, he was actually happy for them but there was always one part of him that wanted them not to be together.

There would always be those thoughts. Wondering what it was like for Blaine – to have Kurt. Imagining how certain things Kurt said or did would be different if Dave was the one he was dating. Doubting and then being less pessimistic about the possibility of such a relationship. It was all just that – thoughts – never verbalized, much less discussed with anyone outside his own mind.

He had long since formulated plan. To anyone that ever asked, he would play it off as a shallow crush. Nothing more. He wouldn't show his scars – how could he explain the pain of losing something he never had?

But looking into the comforting eyes of his mother, knowing this was different and his confession would be safe, he relented, "Yes. I did."

She did not judge or prod further. She closed the yearbook and stood up to hug her son. Small coos and a soothing rub of his back later, she broke away to begin packing again.

When as much progress as possible was made, they paused to survey the scene before walking out of the room to get dinner.

Dave's hand caught his mother's wrist as she was halfway through the door. She turned and he bent slightly to kiss her forehead.

"I love you, Mom."

She stroked his cheek and chin, "I love you too, Dave. And one day, you'll find someone who loves you even more than I do."

They both smiled and Dave let her go.

"Let's go! I'm starving."


End file.
